Author: Bellissiwarriors

Recently I was given the choice between two projects to take part in, and I was dragging my feet making a decision. I spent the weekend trying to finagle and wrestle my schedule to be able to do both things, but I knew that in the end, saying yes to one was saying no to the other.

My thoughts ran something like this: This measurable, quantifiable, visible thing seems like a better use of my time and energy. I could do something there. The thing over here is invisible and not likely to ever be seen. It’s doubtful anything will ever come of it.

And so it went around and around. By Monday afternoon, I retreated to the hammock to be still. A cooling breeze gently rocked me and I asked the Lord, “What would you have me do?” 

I’m sharing because maybe you’ve been there, too. Or maybe you’re there now. Trying to figure out which yes is the best yes. Fully aware that your time and energy are finite resources. Knowing that responsibility is the companion of choice. And asking the Lord, “What now?”

Nothing we do for the Lord is ever wasted.

If I’m honest, one thing I’m really good at is unbelief. Like when someone offers to do something for me, you can pretty much count on me saying something like, “Really? Are you sure?” So when the Spirit brought that word from 1 Corinthians 15:58 to mind, instead of breathing a huge sigh of relief, my response was this – “What if my effort is insignificant, if it never amounts to anything? Shouldn’t I do the thing with the bigger impact?”

The Lord is kind. He isn’t worn out by my unbelief or by my questions. And the very next person He brought to mind was the widow making her offering at the Temple. 

While Jesus was in the Temple, he watched the rich people putting their gifts into the collection box. Then a poor widow came by and dropped in two pennies. Luke 21:1-2

Those two pennies weren’t going to make any difference to the operating budget of the Temple. They weren’t going to lead to a big building project or seed the benevolence fund. They weren’t going to feed the hungry or clothe the poor or help the oppressed. 

But she’s the one the Lord Jesus pointed out as exemplary. Her offering is the one that He praised. Why? Because while it might have represented basically nothing in the vast Temple accounts, it was everything to her. She gave everything she had to the Lord. 

“‘I assure you’, he said, ‘this poor widow has given more than all the rest of them. For they have given a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she has.’” Luke 21:3-4

The widow’s offering was small, but wholehearted. To be half-hearted is to be without enthusiasm or effort. And who really wants that? But to be wholehearted is to be fully committed. Sometimes our offerings don’t seem like they amount to much, or they go for the mundane, or no one sees them or acknowledges them or even understands them. But none of that matters to God. God sees what’s done in secret (Matthew 6:6) and He’s most concerned with the motives behind our giving. It’s the redemption and restoration of our hearts to wholeness that’s precisely the whole point, the most desired outcome, of all that He’s done on our behalf.

So whether you’re in a season of indecision, or of making decisions, or even if you’re confident you’re already walking the path marked out for you, may you live out what comes from the fullness of your heart.

What does the LORD your God require of you? He requires only that you fear the LORD your God, and live in a way that pleases him, and love him and serve him with all your heart and soul. Deuteronomy 10:12

In Rome, the past is all around you. Sometimes it’s visible ruins, crumbling remnants of previous lives, some impressive, some humble, all empty. Other times it’s hidden beneath your feet, unseen but surprisingly intact. And sometimes it’s incorporated into the present, precious stones and metals salvaged, reworked, and repurposed into something new.

Take the Basilica of San Clemente, for instance. You have to walk down a flight of stairs to reach the entrance to the church and courtyard because streetlevel Rome is much higher today. The present basilica dates from the 12th century, but her marble chancel is from an earlier 6th century church. Descend one level and you enter a 4th century church, complete with medieval frescoes. Descend one level further and you’re walking down a 1st century Roman street, wandering into buildings and peeking into a cult temple.  

Only thirty minutes to traverse 2000 years.

In some ways, we’re all a little like Rome. The past is never really past. We might press on, but it lingers in ways visible and invisible. It’s the foundation we build on. Some parts we carry forward, incorporating them into our present in new and different ways, and some are better left in the dust.

The past isn’t a place you want to get stuck. I don’t want to be 2 levels below the street when the fathers turn off the lights and shut the door for the night. But I also don’t want to leave the good stuff hidden. I want the precious parts to stay with me, to be a part of my today and a touchstone for my tomorrow. 

In many places, the structure of ancient Rome holds up present day Rome, but it’s not as though you spend much time thinking about it. People cross piazzas, lounge in parks, go in and out of buildings without giving a single thought to what might be beneath them. My thoughts are mostly full of my shopping list, the conversation I want to have with my friend, what I’m going to make for dinner. I imagine it was the same for the people who passed this way before me.

The buildings were abandoned because they didn’t serve a purpose for the living anymore. Similarly, in the here and now, the past is a foundation, a backdrop to life happening in the present, but we live best with a heart oriented towards the future, to the time when all things will be made new. When the perishable, and all its accompanying decay, is set aside for that which will not wear out, fall down, or pass away.

One thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 3:13-14